


Lycoris Radiata

by roshytsunami



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demon Deals, Demons, F/M, Falling In Love, Hanahaki Disease, Love Confessions, M/M, Other, clueless demon, flaws seen as beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28111920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roshytsunami/pseuds/roshytsunami
Summary: This is for the zine Secretum Hortus a digital zine which can be found here: https://gummizines.itch.io/secretum-hortus.Summary: Making a deal with a demon is easy. Finding a way home for the out of touch demon is another story.
Kudos: 3





	Lycoris Radiata

Ashes and molten rock fall from the rising mass exiting the pentagram on the floor. The creature stands upon hind legs in soot-covered fur, encased in blue jean shorts sporting a hole for a lion’s tail. Golden bangles jingle upon each wrist containing unrecognizable symbols while smoke moves across their boney torso covering the multicolored scars from view. Their head, human in shape, sprouts three thin spiral horns with tightly coiled hair falling down their back. However, it's the cream-colored mask that frightens Zephram. 

From beneath the mask, they speak calmly for Zephram.

“What is your wish, human?”

The mortal appears small and male. However, it’s his voice that confuses them. It’s light, airy but holds a strong timber from years of practice. It must be a changeling.

Zephram holds up his arm covered in thorny vines, digging in and out of the limb pulsing like worms burrowing in soil.

“I want you to get rid of this Hanahaki. I don’t have money to get the surgery,” he starts keeping his steel-grey eyes on the demon. “You may have my soul for removing this mistake.”

The demon chuckles behind their mask. “Why is one so young asking to remove love? This Hanahaki has been a blessing on humans for eons.”

The man’s lips pinch together, arm held higher for the demon. “It’s an eyesore I wish to remove and never experience again. Unless this is out of your capabilities.” He smirks, as the demon’s mask rattles.

“It will be done,” the demon answers. It loops one of their claws underneath the skin of the thorny vine--Zephram hissing at the sudden action. Claws puncture the vine while smoke from their torso pours into the opening. The vine quivers, discolors, and crumbles into dust. A small trident shaped scar appears near Zephram’s wrist.

Zephram looks at his unblemished arm. “Thank you, so my soul?”

“It is done,” the demon states, pointing at his wrist. “That scar binds your soul to me, when you cease to exist it comes to me.”

“So you branded me like cattle,” he laughs as the demon’s mask rattles.

“In some way yes. I have performed the task send me home.”

Zephram raises an eyebrow. “I thought demons went back after completing the task?”

“I thought humans sent us home?”

Both beings blink at each other before the human breaks the silence. “Uh, so I guess you are stuck here? Whoops.”

* * *

Being unable to leave the mortal realm is horrifying. There are more mortals than the demon remembers and everywhere is a death trap. How on earth do humans survive such things as “politics,” “cold,” or worst of all “school loans”. The demon realm keeps looking better by the minute. Of course, there’s violence, but it’s expected if you push someone to apologize or have your head removed: there is no in-between.

It is awkward living with someone whose soul you’ve claimed. However, the worst had to be when Zephram asked for their “name”. He already knew their true name. How else would they have been summoned? Zephram wouldn’t stop pestering them, even threatening to call them “Truffles” instead of “demon” if they didn’t choose one. So they chose “Simba.” 

Zephram mentioned a brave being named Simba with a tail like their own. It seemed fitting and made Zephram smile when the name was claimed. Simba enjoyed seeing Zephram’s crooked smile. It made Simba feel warmer. Must be a side effect of staying too long in this realm.

It’s worse than a side effect; it’s what the mortals called “feelings”. Simba taps the porcelain mask hiding their face. Simba doesn’t understand how this could happen. This is not some cheap horror show, this is their life currently: which is falling for a mortal.

It’s not their fault Zephram is so beautiful; however, when Simba says as much to him Zephram laughs it off and mentions it as “flaws”. Simba must have different views on beauty because those imperfections draw them into Zephram. The splotchy brown and tan markings on his legs. The scar along his abdomen he received from a bike accident. The chipped molar that needs to be removed, but Zephram says “money is tight”. The way he touches his eyeball inserting plastic to see clearly. The hair that cannot be tamed unless gooped with lots of gel. The large mole on his shoulder. He’s beautiful not only in appearance but action.

Zephram cursed out a store owner while another behind him stole junk food. He’s taken a mortal too blitzed out of her mind to a blessed stone building. He says it will protect her. He must not see the shadow demons leaking through the cracks.

He does all this and something called a “job” to provide food and shelter. This “job” must be a demon of greed. The exhaustion and golden spikes digging deeper into Zephram are familiar. Zephram says he can’t see it, and offers a pat between the horns of my head. Simba frowns seeing the spikes dig deeper into Zephram: maybe it’s something only demons can see.

* * *

Simba wants to protect Zephram. They want to give something valuable to him. Unfortunately, what they want to give is something they have limited knowledge about.

Love.

It’s an emotion Simba has little experience, but for Zephram they will find a way.

Simba spends the day brainstorming, making a list of their thoughts such as: “How can I prove to Zephram he is cute and deserves the world?” “Is world domination a good gift for him?” “Would he be interested in destroying his enemies?” “Is he interested in me?”

Simba stares at the last one tail wagging. That is the most important one. What would be the point of world domination if they couldn’t share it with Zephram?

“Hey,” Zephram says as Simba’s mask rattles, startling them. This never used to happen before.

“Hello, Zephram.”

Zephram sighs, rubbing the back of his head, “Hear me out. You’ve been acting weird.” Simba’s tail droops. “Weirder than normal, so are you ok? I’m sorry I haven’t found out anything about sending you home—”

“It’s not that,” they interrupt. “Going home isn’t an issue.”

“Ok so?”

“I have feelings.”

“Ok everyone has those.”

“Not for demons…we are emotionless, only filled with emotions when we consume a soul.”

“So that’s why you collect them?”

Simba nods his head. “However, I am feeling without soul collecting. It has confused me for weeks.” The mask trembles as Zephram sits down in front of Simba. “I feel affection for you.”

“What?”

“I understand it’s strange but I recognize it. This affection is love for you. However per our agreement, you no longer experience Hanahaki and those emotions that come from it. As such it has been difficult figuring out a way to express or think of some grand gesture to impress upon you my emotions, while also seeing if you might feel the same way.”

“Holy shit.” Zephram laughs, covering his mouth. Simba grimaces at the reaction before callous human hands grab their own.

“Same.”

“Same?”

“I uh–I mean, argh,” Zephram says, standing up. “You’re a literal demon, so what chance does a mortal have of wooing you?”

“Then you aren’t opposed to the idea?”

“Of course not,” he laughs, reaching for Simba’s claws. “Look can I kiss you on the mask or is that weird? I mean, Simba, you know you’re hot right?”

“I’m a demon of fire and destruction. I know I am hot,” he answers confused.

Zephram makes a disgusting snort. One that Simba has grown fond of. “No, I mean like sexy hot, and I don’t know. It’s kind of weird to fall for the demon who took my soul or was that your plan all along,” he teases.

Simba purrs from under the mask. “It was not my intention, initially.”

“Hmm but now,” he drawls out, leaning his face closer to theirs.

“I have begun to see the appeal,” Simba answers, leaning their face down to Zephram’s level, receiving a quick kiss on his mask. The mask rattles at the action as Zephram laughs softly holding Simba’s claws.

“You’re cute when flustered,” he grins.

“Is that what this is?” Simba laughs deeply. “I must say I enjoy it. Can we continue more of this?”

“Sure, Simba.” Zephram smiles as Simba’s mask rattles in excitement. Simba is glad Zephram summoned them.


End file.
